Skaia High
by Illisandria Carthain
Summary: Welcome to Skaia High, home to superheroes-in-training. Sure, it looks snooty and all, but there is more to this private academy than meets the eye. Soon, some of the student body will find out that not everything is as it seems. Multiple POV. TRI66ER WARNIN6S before each chapter.
1. Be Eridan Ampora

** (A/N: Say hello to my pet-project, Skaia High. I'll try and keep the trolls and kids in character but more than likely they'll be rather stereotyped. I apologise in advance. There will be TRI66ER WARNIN6S before each chapter if needed. And I did some extensive research into the trolls, kids, and other characters before I started each chapter. So I hope you like Skaia High as much as I like it. :3)**

»Be Eridan Ampora   
You are now Eridan Ampora an' you are currently sittin' in your "Basic Instincts Control" class for violetbloods—an' the singular fusciablood—while starin' at the half-deaf bat-anthro violetblood teacher.

You wish that you could be anywhere other than Skaia High, secret school for superheroes-in-training. You wish that you didn't have to be a mutant, a troll, an' that you could be normal for just one moment. Then, of course, the simple realisation that you're heir to the Headmaster an' you are filthy stinkin' rich sinks in an' you are more than satisfied to be a Ampora.

You turn to stare at the other five violetblood—an' one fusciablood—trolls in your class an' snort.

You know there is a distinct difference between the varyin' supers in Skaia High. There are the "pluses" who are born or gain their skills through various accidents, the "mods" who use technology to increase their own physical an' mental parameters, the "gifted" who gave themselves powers through hard work, and the "trolls"—a which you are a part of—who physically differ from humans in obviously non-human ways. There are even sub-classes of supers; but the ones that matter are the trolls.

You also know that within the trolls are shared various physical traits: grey skin, black irises an' yellow sclera, inhuman ears, fangs, an' horns the colour a candy corn.

Common knowledge an' the like. Each and every super in this entire Goddamned place know about trolls. You an' your kin are the freaks of the super world.

Even more embarrassin' is the fact that the mods are lookin' down on you. They don't even have real powers, just second-hand cheap-ass abilities that they gained through the use of technology; anyone with half-a-brain could be doin' that sort a thing. But no, they get in Skaia High anyway. Bull-fuckin'-shit.

But it doesn't really matter what you think because at this exact moment in time, you're starin' at the fusciablood an' hissin' at her to get her attention.

"Psst!" You hiss, throwin' a small scrap a paper at Feferi Peixes's head, hittin' her in the ear-fins and startlin' her.

"Glub?" She looks at you, confused.

"Psst, Fef!" You pass her a note and smile as she reads it.

_ hey fef howw're you doin? this is really borin._

anywway i havve a question for you. wwill you listen to me? 

She passes the note back to you and smiles reassuringly.

_ Of cours—E -E-El list-En to w)(at—Ev—Er you )(av-E to say._

You and I ar-E b-Est fronds, right? 

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God! It's now or never. Best tell her how you're feelin' right now or you'll never have the guts to again.

_ wwell you an' i havve been best fronds since our first year here an _ oh God...fish puns. You blame Fef for that. _ i wwas hopin wwe could take our relationship to another levvel _

You pass the note over to Fef as the violetblood teacher continues to ramble on about importance of not maiming any humans if you were a carnivore. Fingers crossed, figuratively, that she doesn't reject you horribly.

Her expression changes an' you flinch as she scribbles somethin' down. Then she passes the note back to you.

_ Look -Eridan...38( I t)(ink w-E ar-E good fri-Ends but...glub it all!_

I think w-E s)(ould stay t)(at way. Sorry if you want-Ed to b-E mor-E but...I don't t)(ink it's a good id-Ea.

Sorry... 

Shit. Motherfucking shit. Damn it all! Why? Why did you even bother?! Why, why, why?! Now she probably hates you! You slam your head into you desk and bite your lower lip, piercin' it an' drawin' blood. It dribbles an' pools on the cheap wood-top of the desk and you bite back tears as well. Fef reaches her hand out to touch your back an' you slip away, cursin' her but mostly cursin' yourself. Thank God when the tone sounds to switch classes. It's a pity that your next class is a mixed-blood class with one from every blood colour. And guess who would be there?

Fef.

Your name is ERIDAN AMPORA an' you HATE your BIG FUCKIN' MOUTH.


	2. Be Vriska Serket

** (A/N: Big thanks to the MSPA wiki for all your help! Vriska is one of my favourite trolls simply because she's so complex. Her redrom/blackrom flipping with Tavros is so much fun because Tavros is almost incapable of hating anyone and he can never love her because she's such a bitch. Also, I like the whole "hermaphrodite-tentabulge-nook" thing so I'm gonna use it here. Godtier titles come into play for some of the trolls, Vriska especially. Also, I haven't read the latest updates so what I know of Kankri and the Dancesestors is purely from the MSPA wiki. I apologise if they're OOC. Don't expect too frequent updates, I'll write when I feel like it and that may not be too often. Ta~!)**

TRI66ER WARNIN6: Mentions of hermaphroditic genetalia (tentabulge and nook), violent sexual desires, and vicious blackrom longing.

»Be Vriska Serket   
You are now Vriska Serket and at this exact moment in time you are sitting quietly in your cheap-as-shit desk in the world's most useless class ever "Understanding Troll Anatomy". Every troll under the sun knows that you all are hermaphroditic, with a bone bulge for the male genitalia and a nook for the female genitalia. If you so wanted, you could fuck yourself. You don't need any class to tell you that.

But, disregarding the Insufferable blathering on and on about the importance of knowing the difference between socially acceptable touching and errotic touching when it comes to trolls, you are in a preeeeeeeety good mood.

At this exact moment in time, you're viciously staring at the object of your hate-love obsession: the mudblood Tavros Nitram. Just looking at his round, innocent eyes and his fluffy mohawk makes you want to scream. You just wish he hated you back but it seems as though the Beast-Summoner is completely incapable of black feelings towards anyone. No lie, you are—in the words of many-a-troll—"bluh bluh huge bitch", especially to him and yet he still greets you meekly with a smile on his face. Sometimes it pisses you off to such an extent that you want to shove him against a wall while asphyxiating him and ram you bone bulge so deep in his shithole that he bleeds for days.

You cannot even count the number of times you've had delicious caliginous fantasies involving making him scream your name in pain. There are even more where you murder all his friends and he pins you to a wall and fucks _ you _ till _ you _ bleed. Many nights you've woken up with morning stiffies and have needed to work off the tension.

Daydreaming aside, you truly wish in your heart-of-hearts—despite people saying you don't have one—that that irritating bastard Ampora would quit bugging you. He's flicked a note at your head about five or six times and each time you used you skill to move it just a centimetre above you head so that it hits the insufferable horse-fetishist Zahak in the glasses. Finally, sick of his unignorable 'nyeh's, you catch it and read it.

_ hey vvris wwill you help me wwith another project?_

this one is on molecular density an the manipulation a electrons to increase a molecules magnetic properties. 

You throw it back after scribbling an answer and make sure it hits him square between the eyes, underneath the bridge of his ridiculous hipster-frames.

_ No. Fucking. Way. 8ait 8reath._

I would rather you suck my 8one 8ulge until I'm dry as a desert than help you with another h8ful project. 

He angrily scribbles a reply and then you catch it mid-toss again.

_ but wwhy vvris? wwhat did i do to make you so mad at me? _

Pass back again as the Insufferable writes "AND 9F C9URSE, THERE IS N9THIN6 M9RE IMP9RTANT THAN UNDERSTANDIN6 THAT THE H9RN AREA IS A TRIGGER F9R ER9TIC FEELIN6S".

_ Let's see, shall we? ::::I_

You last project 8lew my arm 8ff and the shrapnel t88k 8ut my left eye, h8w's th8t f8r a re8son? 

You make sure the note hits him hard this time and watches his face with a sadistic pleasure as he reads the note. Then he 'harrumph's to himself and scribbles away. Damn insufferable hipsterdouchebag.

_ pleeeeeeeease vvris?_

ill owwe you! 

You crumple the note up and throw the paper ball at his horns when you finish replying.

_ I s8id n8 8nd th8t me8ns n8! Dr8p it 8mp8r8!_

N8 m8re disc8ssi8ns.

Hell f8cking n8. 

When he opens his mouth to reply verbally, you use your skill to slam it shut. Then you continue to daydream about raping Nitram. That is, until the Insufferable—neé: Kankri Vantas—calls you out to answer a question.

"What are you allowed to do with a troll's horns, miss Serket?" Kankri stares you down, his eyes narrowed in disapproval for your obvious inattentiveness.

"Fondle them until the troll in question releases their genetic material in their undergarments." You snark off, then, just as he's about to correct you, you use your skill to twist his tongue so he says you are correct. Repeatedly.

Frustrated, flustered, and completely gob-smacked, Kankri stares you down as he shouts, "FREE PERIOD!" Then he slinks out the door to nark on you to the Headmaster, Cronus Ampora Sr., the little rat.

What ever. No one knows your skill so you have the upper hand. You share it with your great aunt's cousin's godmother's best friend three times removed, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang—antagonist extraordinaire. It's the ability to bend light to cause changes in the environment around you. Simply put, you solidify light waves and use them to mess with stuff, like moving notes so they miss your head by a centimetre. Useful skill; no one knows and you like it that way. But, skill aside, you're going to use you free period to eyefuck Nitram some more.

You name is VRISKA SERKET and you wish you could JUST GET RID OF ALL YOUR SEXUAL TENSION.


	3. Be Equius Zahhak

**(A/N: Equius is my patron and, although I originally held him in contempt, the sweaty asshole, I have learned to love him. That aside, poorly written porn ahead! However, nice to see someone likes Skaia High. And thank's to Guest and SaaukeWatashiUchiha for your reviews of Pants!Stuck. They made me smile. I just hope someone woul review SH...Enjoy!)**

TRI66ER WARNIN6: tentabulge, masturbation, 100d thoughts, and destruction of school property on accident. 

»Be Equius Zahak  
You are now Equius Zahak and you are sitting at your poorly-constructed excuse for a school desk. Your professor left and you now have a free period. But what to do?

You suppose you could stare at the object of your current affection, Aradia Medigo, but making eye-contact with a rustblood would be improper of one at your standing. indigobloods are not supposed to fraternise with the lowbloods. Especially not the lowest of lowbloods.

Still, she has such a charming grace and allure to her that would be most befitting of a highblood and yet—she is supposed to be crass and rude, as all lowbloods are.

The situation makes you quite flustered. Being flustered makes you sweat like a horse. Sweating like a horse makes people stare at you like you're some sort of invalid. Overall, not a good combination.

You sit up straighter, trying to calm down and cease grossing everyone out but Vriska moves her seat over near yours and plants her elbows on your desk's cracked surface.

"Heeeeeeeey Sweat-quius. I have a huuuuuuuuge favour to ask you." She practically purrs at you.

You straighten up taller, her slut-like manner of speech unbecoming of someone a mere rank below you on the hemospectrum. "Yes," you inquire of her, "What is your request?"

"It's not so much a request as an order." Her grin is wide and her spider-fangs bared wickedly. You feel a stirring in your sheathe. "I need parts. Nothing big," she waves a hand dismissively, "Just a few sheets of that new alloy you made and a hundred-or-so rivets along with fifteen yards of cobalt wiring, enough copper plating to cover the training field for the bluebloods, and one multi-tool—one of the ones you made specifically for your work." She smirks again and your bulge shivers and tenses in your sheathe, "You understand? I need all these items _ by tomorrow _ or else your ass is grass, got it?!" You nod slowly, trying not to broadcast your growing issue to her. "I understand." Your voice seems no different, the slow, soft tone you always take, rumbling deep within your chest but hidden inside the calm was a raging lust.

And an overwhelming sense of guilt and disgust.

"Good," Vriska slips her seat away from yours, leaving one last parting comment, "Have fuuuuuuuun Sweat-quius!"

You try to not do it, you try really hard but it is to no avail. Standing up and gently pushing away your desk—still managing to damage it beyond repair... ** AGAIN ** —you excuse yourself from the room and run to the restroom for indigobloods and quietly close the door. Then you slam your back against the wall, glad to hear no cracks of breaking tile. The restroom you're in was created to specially accommodate indigobloods and their immense strength, even your freakishly immense strength, so it's so much more durable than the other restrooms.

You sit with your back against the door after locking it and pull your pants down. Your bulge is beginning to unsheathe, the longer and older of them peeking out and moistened with your own pre-release. You position yourself just so and tentatively probe the lip of your nook, eliciting small shudders from your bulge. Then you insert one finger in to the second knuckle and slowly probe inside yourself, scraping and clawing the sensitive inner-wall of your nook. Then, one after another, you insert the rest of your fingers, pumping in and out until they're slick with pre-release and your bulge is fully unsheathed and ready.

With a slick sound, you remove your fingers from your nook and guide them to your bulge. The longer ones wrap around your fingers first, writhing and rubbing for contact, then the smaller ones follow. You play with them for a bit until you are almost ready, completely excited in both parts. Then you slowly move your hand to your nook, bulge still wrapped around your fingers, and gently introduce them to the inside of your nook. The swiftly enter, scraping at your inner-wall and pushing in and out with a frenzied tempo. You moan and sweat, bucking as you clutch at the edge of the toilet bowl, trying jot to scream with pleasure. Being both sexes, you get twice the pleasure and it's almost overwhelming. The feeling of the longer ones almost scraping your prostate and the smaller ones twirling at the entrance is so amazing that you release in one big spasm, heavily toned indigo genetic material spraying out of your bulge and translucent indigo genetic material flowing from your nook as you shatter the toilet in your grip.

Riding out the orgasms, your chest heaves as you lean against the ruined remains of the toilet, water splashing all over you. You feel a mix of relief and disgust fill you. Why would you perform such lewd acts as masturbating? You are a highblood, and highbloods do not masturbate; let alone masturbate in a bathroom to the pure masochistic glee of being ordered around by someone lower on the hemospectrum than you.

Filthy. Disgusting. Incomprehensible.

Utterly horrified by your repeated offences, you get up and walk out, leaving ruins in your wake.

Your name is EQUIUS ZAHAK and you HATE YOUR PHYSICAL REACTIONS TO ORDERS.


	4. Be Nepeta Leijon

**»Be Nepeta Leijon**  
You are now Nepeta Leijon and you are pawsitively irritated with your meowrail, Equius. He allowed himself to be riled up by Vwriskers and then broke a desk and left! He pawlso smelled like sexual tension and sweat which could only meown one thing: he had gone to the indigoblood restroom to purrelieve himself. Purr, purr Equius.

When he returns, you tilt your head in his direction and grin, "Hsst! Equius! Are you okay?" You whisper-shout at him.

He looks at you and frowns, "It is impolite to speak during class, Nepeta." He's scolding you in his unusual Equius-way, rumbling purr of a voice stern but his meowth set in a slight smile. Completely pawsitive you will follow his directions, you grab a piece of pawper and your fafurite green pen and scribble down a note for him.

_:33 « *the mighty huntress ac wriggles her rump in the air as she stalks her meowrail ct confused about his f33lings* whats up ct?_

He reads your note and replies pawmost immediately, _D—» You do understand I have no time for such f001ishness so if you would get to the point as quickly as possible that would be most e%cellent._

_:/ « *understanding cts reluctance to play along ac resumes normal speaking*_

_:33 « whats eating at mew equius?_

He scribbles back, snapping three pencils in the purrocess, and lightly hands you the note, indigo graphite smeowred all over the piece of notebook paper.

_D—» It is nothing more than some STRONG 100d thoughts that I must e%tinguish as soon as possible._

_D—» Although I am rather pleased at your willingness to drop the childish charade and speak to me normally._

You snort, although Equius is your meowrail—your "fated friend"—he gets on your nerves sometimes. Scratch that—meowst of the time.

_:(( « look you're sad i can tell. why dont we go to skaia purroper tonight! im sure my meowrail can find a driver to take us to the surface. ;DD_

Equius looks at the pawper and then at you and back again. Then he breaks a few meowr pencils answering you.

_D—» You sh001d know better than anyone that my disguiser is abso100tly broken. And you sh001d also know that I refuse to go to Skaia._

_:(( « but Equius! itll ch33r mew up! i know it! pawlease?!_

He sighs and hands you his reply, the paper slightly ripped now.

_D—» I suppose I c001d try. Just understand that Andrew is probably the only driver I will be able to convince to take us on such a prohibited escapade._

You see Equius huff and readjust his cracked sunglasses. Smiling you reply with a remewed vigour.

_:33 « yaaay! thank you Equius! this meowns so much to me! come by derses female dorms after you fix your disguiser._

_D—» Of course. I e%pect to see you much later. We will meet up by your room?_

_X33 « yes! see you then!_

Just then, almeowst as if it was waiting for you two to finish, the bell rings and you all get up for your next class. You hug Equius and head towards "Controlling Your Instincts", your next class which is exclusively for olivebloods. You understand that, by being an oliveblood, you have trouble controlling your animal instincts sometimes. You do turn into a giant were-cat when you use your pawers, which could be pawtentialy dangerous if you didn't know how to control yourself. But you do. So it isn't. Most of the time. The hardest pawrt about controlling your pawers is when you're around anything that you find to be purrey, like fish or birds or rodents or other olivebloods-or-violetbloods that are birds or fish or rodents. That's why you still need to be in this claws.

Your teacher, a were-merlin three or four times your age, is speaking to the claws on matters of great impurrtence but you're not focusing on her or the matters of great impurrtence. You're too busy pawlaying with your latest shipping wall on Tumblr. Your second cousin, Mewlin, had been helping you with it so it had expawnded to include many people you didn't know and you just wanted to know who she had added.

Let's see..., you scroll through the wall and pick up on a name you don't purrecognise: Kurloz Makara. There's Gamzee Makara, so Kurloz must he his purrelative or something but... The boxes that were filled in showed that he was matesprits with Mewlin! How furry interesting...

Looking through some more, you found out that a "Mituna Captor" was flushed for "Latula Pyrope", Terezi's older sister, and pale for the afurmentioned Kurloz. Your Troll Anatomy teacher was a pawssible meowrail for "Purrim Maryam". Some of the names Mewlin added you recognise and others you might know their relative. Ofurall, a good expansion.

You shoot your cousin a text: **:33 » *ac pouncegr33ts her cousin with pawsitive gl33. wriggling her tail in the air she pawses and asks her a question* howre you doing?**

You phone beeps a few minutes later and you sneak it into your lap to read.

**(=^•x•^=) HEY NEPETA! PURRLEASED TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN! (=^-n-^=) LOL! I'M DOING WELL, HOW ARE MEW?**

Giggling softly to yourself, you answer her. **:DD » of course ive b33n well. the shipping wall looks so purrty. thanks for your help!**

**(=^•ω•^=) NOOOOOOOOO PURROBLEM COUSIN! MY BABIES LOOK SO GOOD ON YOUR WALL! DO MEW MIND IF MEW GIVE ME PURRMISSION TO EDIT IT IF I WANT TO? I'D LIKE TO UPDATE IT AS I S33 FIT.**

**:33 » of course! if mewll let me have your tumblr name ill add you as an admin.**

Just as your phone goes off another time, your teacher snatches it out of your lap. You resist the urge to rip her wings off and crack her head open, instead smiling sweetly and asking, "Do mew mind if you could give me my smartphone back? I need it for furry impurrtant things."

She glares at you and turns away, "You'll get it bAAK! after the class ends."

You grumble as she struts up to her desk and continues to talk about her matters of great impurrtence. When the claws finally ends, you check your phone for the message you missed.

It said: **(=^-o-^=) SURE! IT'S MEWLING-LEO. ALL CAPS LIKE THAT. CAN'T WAIT TO S33 ALL MY FEELS UPON A TUMBLR WALL! (=^•ω•^=)** You smile and stash your phone away, purrancing back to your dorm. It's nice to know someone else has shipping running their oliveblood troll-veins.

The Derse dorms are on the west purrt of the estate, pressing against a large lake and overshadowed by a huge forest of trees. And, although "trees" isn't furry descriptive, there are so many diffurent types of trees in the Derse forest that that's the only word you can use to describe it. It's a pity, about the trees though, they cover the Derse dorms in darkness no matter what time of day it is so the electric bill is huge.

You're in room 1320, a spot that has a balcony—which is purrfect for watching birds fly by—and two separate bed-and-bath combos. Most of the Derse roomers don't have that luxury since Derse belongs to the poor-or-frugal supers. You have the third of five rooms like that in the entire building—purrly by chance.

Looking around, mew see your roommate isn't here yet. While she isn't the most horrible of roommates, it's nice to get some alone time if you're a troll. Sometimes, when they think you aren't looking, they stare at you like you're a fureak. Thankfully, only one-fourth of the student and faculty bodies refuse to room with or teach trolls, so the hate isn't completely ofurwhelming.

You slap your disguiser on your wrist and activate it, looking in the mirror for conformation of it's functionality. God-bless the fact that the reflection staring back at mew is a tall, thin girl of obvious Scottish descent and less obvious Asian backgrounds. Her eyes are almond-shaped and your own olive-slash-spring green coloured irises peek from beneath thin eyelashes, her hair a mess of orange-red curls and waves. Her clothes are the same as yours, howefur: cat-ears hat, long-sleeve shirt with the Leo symbol on it, dark denim jeans, and bright blue Confurse.

Satisfied by the condition of mewr disguiser, you step outside your dorm and lock the door. You hear someone clear their throat and the fur on the back of mewr neck shoots up. "Excuse me, I believe that you asked me to meet you here?"

Oh God, it was only Equius. You turn and smile at him, taking in his disguise. Like your—and efurry troll's—disguise, his is based on his heritage. He is short for his blood, just about your height, but broad and well-muscled and his heritage is a mix of Aborigine and American Native—although how that ever happened is beyond you. His hair is dark brown-red that looks black unless you examine it closely and his eyes, when not hidden behind his sunglasses, are a deep indigo colour—the only indication of European blood in his lineage.

"Hey Equius! Nice to see mew have your disguiser fixed." You try to hide your fear at seeing him but he catches on.

"I frightened you, didn't I?" He looks so sad at this. "I'm sorry. It's been a while since you've seen me like this and you didn't expect it did you?"

"No! It's just...," you try to find a way to word it, "There's been rumeowrs of young women going missing and I was worried."

"And you didn't recognise me so you were afraid." He amends, hitting the nail in the head.

You paws, trying to say it differently, but cannot. "Yes. I should have recognised mewr voice but I was preclawccupied with avoiding my roommate." You shrug apawlogetically.

"Why would you not want to see your roommate? She isn't one of those anti-troll humans, is she? Is she a mod, that may explain it." One of the many things about Equius that irritates you is his prejudice towards anyone not a troll or not a blood equal-to or higher than his.

You shake mewr head vigorously, "No! She's purrather nice! It's just that...it's embarrassing. Being a troll ameowng humans, that is. I just..," you paws, thinking deeply about why you're afraid, "Rejection scares me."

"I understand," no he doesn't, "rejection is a terrifying prospect. However, one cannot simply avoid confontation with one's fears. It's unhealthy."

You resist the urge to claw his face off, and smile, "Let's go. Mew said you might be able to get Andrew to take us to Skaia purroper?"

He nods, "Yes. He said he would do it in exchange for Vriska's phone number and dorm room."

Surpurrised, you laugh, "Did you give it to him?"

"Of course. I have no positive feelings towards Miss Serket in the first place, why would I refuse Andrew her number and room?" Equius shrugged and you giggled.

"Let's go then! I have a supurrise for you!" You grab his paw and drag him to the furont of the school, where a dark-black stretch limo waits, the driver standing in furont of the car. He opens the door and smiles, almeowst creepily, beclawning you to enter the vehicle.

"One trip to Skaia for you all. Please board the Sgrub express!" Andrew laughs as he pushes his brown hair out of his eyes. "And, just so you know, if Dualscar found out I was letting you leave for a run round the city, he'd have my head so...if anyone finds out, your asses are grass, gettit?"

"Of course," you purr sweetly, "No one will know of the meowst wonderful trip you took us on."

"Indeed," Equius agrees, trying to hold back a gag of disgust, "This will be news to our ears only."

"Good. Now get in the damn car before I kick your scrawny troll sphincters all the way to LOSAD." All levity gone from his voice, he slips into the driver's seat and starts the car. "This is the Huss requesting entrance to Skaia, over."

"Scratch here, request pending. Why are you descending to Skaia in the first place? Over." Another voice squawks over the radio.

"Personal business. Got some shit to clear up with the missus; mind your own damn shit Scratch, over." Andrew sounds less than pleased with whomeowver is on the other line but his clawstic nature is getting the job done. Not two minutes later, a transportalizer insignia lights up on the door in front of mew all and Andrew speeds through it.

Skaia High is a large man-made planetoid that orbits above Skaia, much like the original Derse and Prospit did befur the Ascension. After that, all planetoids were illegal, so even the small ones like the Land of Little Cubes and Tea—where mew were born—and the Land of Caves and Silence—where Equius was born—had to be brought down to compact on the soft covering of Skaia in order to make it habitable for humans, not just the carapaces.

History lesson aside, you gaze at the surrounding lights as the city—meowr specifclawly LOLAR—breezes by you. Andrew leans over and looks at you when he pulls to a stop at a light. "Where're you goin'?"

"LOTAM," you repurrly, "The corner of Miracle and Prospit. Post haste pawlease."

"Right. Land of Tents and Mirth, Miracle Street and Prospit Highway. Coming up!" He floors it and the two of you sit in almeowst uncomfortable silence.

"So...," Equius begins, a slick sheen of sweat covering his face, "Where are we going exactly?"

"Secret!" You sing out, pawleased to have some clawnvorsation at last. "Besides, it's meowr fun if you don't know."

"Of course." He pawses, and then speaks up again, "How is it you expect to pay for this all?"

"Purr Equius," you shake your head in amewsment and laugh, "I've been saving my boondollars since I was three sweeps. I've got pawlenty of money."

"Ah..." The silence descends again. Thank God the car finally stopped and you got out.

"I'll be waiting at the corner of Prospit and Derse, near the Battlefield when you're done. However," Andrew gives you a stern look, "I'll only be there till 4:13, understand? Then I'll ollie outie and you'll be stranded." He starts the car again and yells, "4:13! Be there of be square bitches!" Then he's gone.

You grab Equius's paw and drag him to a large tent right in furont of you. He exclaims as he goes in, "What are you doing?!"

"You looked down so I found something fur you to enjoy!" You stop, letting him see where you are.

It's an equestrian show, already in progress. Equius gasps and sits down as mew hand your tickets to the usher. He watches, enraptured, as the steeds dance and prance, guided by their trainers. When they take a break, you drag him to the ring and introduce him to one of the trainers. "Rufioh, this is Equius."

"Oh! Hi there Equius," Rufioh extends his hand out to your meowrail, wiping sweat from his face, "Nepeta says you're quite the horse enthusiast. Would you like to meet one?"

"Of course...," Equius seems spell-bound, unable to speak or move he's so enrapt with the animals before him. Rufio leads him to a pure white gelding with a black spot over his left eye.

"This is Aurthor," Rufioh says, guiding Equius's hand to pet Aurthor's nose. "He seems to like you. Sugar cube?"

As Equius gets to know the horse, you smile at Rufioh, "Thanks for the tip, Rufioh."

"No problem," he runs a hand through his red-striped Mohawk, "Nice to know Tavros has a friend."

You laugh; you had saved Tavros from Vriska earlier that week when she was tormenting him and he had mentioned his furiend Rufioh to you. "Is it safe for you to be so close to the Mirthful Palace? The Grand Highblood seems to still want you, you know."

He shrugs, Equius currying Aurthor behind him, "Ol' Messy-mane hasn't seen hide nor hair of me since I ran off so I'm pretty safe. Besides, his sons are supposedly missing so his priorities are elsewhere."

"Missing?" You ask, surpurrised, "Who are they?"

"Well they aren't really his sons, he adopted them and they've never seen each other before but one disappeared a week before he adopted the other one and then that kid disappeared." Rufioh chuckled, "Rotten luck if you ask me. Serves him right. Still, I worry about the kids. Gam-something and something Makara were their names—I think..."

"Makara?" You almost laugh; they're at Skaia High! "Well I hope they're found soon."

"Me too," Equius had left Aurthor and walked back to the two of you, "Come back and visit Aurthor any time! He seems to have taken a shine to you!"

"We will!" Equius bellows, almost gleefully.

"Bye!" You wave and look at your disguiser, noting the time, "Want to go to LOLCAT? We've got about two hours so it should be neat to see where I was born!"

"Of course," and the two of you walk off to LOLCAT, happy with how the night if pawgressing. Maybe you'll even get to see a cat or two! And maybe something fun with happawn.

Your name is NEPETA LEIJON and you are having WAY TOO MUCH FUN with your MEOWRAIL sneaking out of school and ILLEGALLY GOING INTO THE CITY.


	5. Be Rose Lalonde

**(A/N: Rose and I share a birthdate. Her year is seven after mine though. Regardless, I enjoy writing her simply because I can exercise my vocabulary. Spell-check is my friend.)**

**TRIGGER WARNING: Nightmare-like Horrorterrors. (This is just a precaution...)**

**»Be Rose Lalonde**  
The Queen and her consort came in close proximity of each other; pressing foreheads together with their lips meeting, the Queen's thin lips nipping at her consort's full mouth. The stain that adorned their mouths smeared and mixed, forming a ruddy colour that stood out against their pale skin.

"My queen," the consort began, pulling away from her liege reluctantly, "There is something on your mind, what is it if I may be so bold as to inquire?"

"Oh nothing," the ruling monarch dismissed with a flippant wave of her elegant hand, "I am simply thinking about mortality and its effect on a kingdom and its rulers."

"You are afraid of death," the consort stated, her jade eyes clouded as she locked gaze with her lover, "why is it you torment yourself so?"

"Not all of us mortals can be as fortunate as you, my love." Her irritation broadcasted itself through her, eking from her very pores and disturbing the passionate atmosphere. "How I wish to have your skill, your _gift_!"

"This is not a gift, Your Highness, but a curse. I would not wish this on even my worst of enemies, for if I did, they would spend the rest of forever building on the hatred to destroy me! Therefore, by law of transfer, I would not _ever_ wish it on you." She had bristled, her body language speaking of deep sorrow and righteous anger.

"But to stay here and waste away on this earthly plane while you remain locked in time, never to wither, never to change, never to feel Time's cold fingers at your very being, never to become acquainted with Death nor suffer his bony grip at your soul, t'would be a dream. Nay, for me to suffer and you to remain as you are would be a nightmare, and one I do not plan to remain a part of."

"M'Lady, regardless of how much you want this, I would not give it to you." The Queen's consort's face was stone, impassive and unyielding. This was her word and this was final, she would _not_ transfer her curse on the one she loved so passionately, regardless of how often the Queen demanded.

"But by our contract, you must do it if I command."

The consort paused, thoughts rapidly collecting and dispersing in her mind, sorting through the responses to find the proper one. "But, my liege, consequently that would break the first clause of our contract. 'Any request that would be harmful to the Queen, either through action or inaction, cannot be fulfilled.' Therefore, assuming you were to command me to share my '_gift_' with you, I could not for risk of breaching our contract."

Conniving vixen, that she would produce such a perfect rebuttal. That is, however, why the Queen loved her in the first place. "But it would not hurt; and by inaction upon my desire, Time will cause hurt to me, also breaching the first clause. That, in turn, would find null our agreement, and release you to our Kingdom's Hunters."

"I would rather suffer at the hands of Hunters than share my 'gift' with you."

"Then so be it!" The Queen raised her ha—

The soft clicking of your dorm door announces the arrival of your roommate, Nepeta Leijon. You turn to face her and smile thinly, joviality not being a strong point of yours. "Hello Nepeta. You were out late."

The olive blood of your troll roommate flushes in her cheeks and ears, spreading a sickly hue across her face. "Ah, I thought mew would be asleep pawready."

Oh those horrendous cat puns. "You should know better than anyone that I do not sleep. It is part of my gift." What a good line, perhaps you should use it for your novel.

The feline-inclined troll you call a roommate shrugs and smiles, a fair mewling sound emitting from her arms. Looking closer, you notice a wriggling mass of white and black in her arms. The mewling intensifies.

"Are those," you hesitate to ask, the question resting on the tip of your tongue, poised to strike like a viper. To Hell with it, "Are those cats?"

"Ah, ehrm," Nepeta chuckles, embarrassed, "Kittens, actually. Now befur you call the RA, they were going to be mewthanised! No one would buy them and I had enough Boondollars to purrchase them."

She sounds frantic, you realise, and why would no one purchase kittens? Stepping closer, your eyes lock with a small, black fur-ball. All four of its eyes.

"Sweet merciful Zazzerpan!" Your jaw drops, leaving you to marvel at the wonder of whatever in all creation that cat is. "What—?"

"They're mewtants. No one wanted them beclaws they were weird!" Nepeta nuzzles the belly of the four-eyed meowbeast—in troll slang according to Kanaya—and coos, "Baww, mew're just a little cutie, arent'cha?!"

You paws—PAUSE! Pause, dammit, not paws!—for a minute and then open your mouth to inquire something of her when a small black kitten catches your eyes. There is something in his gaze, the way he seems to soldier on even in the face if euthanasia, that is intriguing to you. You pick the little one up and smile wanly at it. "Hello, feline infant, what is your problem? Why were you slated for inhumane death at the hands of boorish humans?" As if in response, the kitten's mouth opens and a mass of tentacles wriggle out from between his lips. From deep within the pulsing mass of limbs, a high pitched meowing issues, saying "I am different" or something along those lines. You don't speak cat. "Ah...," terror and intrigue course through you, rendering you temporarily speechless.

You are a little taken aback, scratch that, really taken aback by the tentacle-cat but, somehow, he's so dang adorable that it doesn't really matter that he looks like Cat-thulu. As Dave would comment on its unusual looks: "Release th' Kraken!".

Yet, somehow the small feline still appeals to you, as if it already is yours. _Poor thing, to be rejected for its differences...no matter how disturbing they are_. Your thoughts whirl around in your head like a tornado of soap bubbles, all beautiful and yet so fragile. Were you to touch one with even the most gentle of prods, it would burst into droplets of the Dream it was spawned from.

You stare at the delightfully unique ball of fur and smile, "You shall be called Jaspersprite, the guardian of my Dreams."

"Mew'll keep it?!" Nepeta almost drops the other kittens when you say this, her green eyes full of hope. Hope you have given her. A lovely feeling if you say so yourself, the endorphins produced when the reward centre of the brain recognises you've done well.

You snuggle Jaspersprite to your chest and smile softly, "I will speak to the RA about the pet arrangements here later this morning. For now, let's give these other beauties a home."

Nepeta skilfully (and you truly wish you knew how she does it) pulls a single kitten out of the writing bundle of monochromatic fur and places it on the corner of her recupercoon, making sure the small feline with two mouths doesn't fall into the sopor. When she sees the look on her face, she blushes olive again, tinting her grey skin and making her look—though you are loath to admit it aloud to anyone—rather attractive. "This one is mine. I named him 'Pounce de Leon' and we're going to look for the legendary Fountain of Mewth together!"

Ironic and a play on words, that trolls rarely show age and that Ponce de Leon went in search for the Fountain of Youth himself.

"So the rest of these are supposed to go to others?" You peer at the two remaining cats with interest, spotting the four-eyed one and one with a green tongue and no eyes (and no other visible deformities). "Do you need any help procuring loving homes for the remainders?"

"Yes pawlease!" She nods with vigour and you grab the small four-eyed cat, cradling it gently in the crook of your arms.

"I know just the people." You gesture for her to leave your dorm, indicating that - yes - you _do_ have your key before she finally vacates the premise. Then you begin the slow pilgrimage to your sister's room. "Roxy, much like myself, simply _adores_ all things of a fluffy or feline nature," you explain to Nepeta as the two of you roam the empty Derse dorm halls, "so surely she'll pick one of these to own. The only problem is her roommate. Needless to say, she is an uncouth and rude young troll of high standings."

"Royal blood?" Nepeta inquires, eyebrows raising to disappear in the wavy mess of her fringe, "You meown blueblooded or higher?"

"If I am correct," and you most often are, "she is of fuchsiablood standing."

Nepeta almost drops dead at that, scandal simply written across her small features that contrasted against her towering heights and plump—scratch that—_curvaceous_ figure. "But that! Fefuri is the only fuchsiablood I knew of! Why would there be another?!"

Its not until she drones off into a loud buzz that you realise you're sleepwalking. Shit.

Before you stands your Horrorterror, Calmasis the Thief, the eldest of the Horrorterrors short of Gl'bgolyb. Gl'bgolyb doesn't even need a title, it is so Ancient and Powerful. Calmasis stares for a moment, Its jet-black eyes unblinking and dead, and then opens Its mouth. Its jaws part in a vertical slit and from Its depths issues a deep, horrifying noise.

"_**yOU Are NoThingGgggG mMMMOrEeEeEeE than a FINALHURRAHFORTHEDYING'2);)38WORLDyou!:72live in.**_"

"_Your point?_" Bold words coming from a terrified little girl; you clutch at the kitten in your arms as if it were a lifeline.

"_**finD THETWELveandThe twelve AnD the FOur and tHE28!;fOuRA!:!/&.Nd the Two Who Are AlL**_"

"_Why?_" You truly are confused, why would it want you to find people? Twelve and twelve and four and four and two? What did that mean?!

"_**Find THOSEW28383!/72,)hOsHineW28!:/$ith The lIGHT.**_"

Then, a sensation of falling to your death in a large pit filled with gelatine that is, in turn, filled with many sharp daggers rubs across your skin and you jolt awake, skin clammy and sweating like a prize-horse in an equestrian show. Nepeta continues to blather on, unaware of your Horrorterror experience, and it is somehow comforting. Happiness that comes in hand with simplicity and routine.

Four-eyes seems rather nonplussed about the whole debacle, what a cool cat.

You are almost at room 034 when another troll that you and Nepeta know stops to face you in the hallway. "Hello! Nice to sea you!"

Fish puns – almost as bad as cat puns.

"Hello Fefuri! Why're mew so happy?" Nepeta shifts Green in her arms so she can wave at her or hatching-mate.

"She told me of the Second Great Thing!" Feferi bounced on her heels softly, her many bangles jingling as they clattered together on her thin swimmers' frame.

A light flickers in your eyes and, for a mere second, you see a young Indian girl wearing only fuchsia and gold. She waves, swimming goggles placed in her thick mop of brown-red hair and a tiara falling perfectly on her forehead; a single white tentacle drapes across her shoulder in a motherly manner. Then the world flashes again and you stare at Feferi in amazement.

"What did She tell you?" Your question is hesitant and you balk at the idea of whatever made her so happy. There was always something that bothered you about Feferi and now the feeling was a million times worse.

"The Vast Honk will sound, then the Vast Glub will echo from Her Song, and finally the Vast Croak will reverse our Fate! The trolls will be human and the humans trolls! I will finally be free! Oh glub, how amazing!" Feferi spins around, her skirt fanning out for a second, and giggles.

Horrorterrors be damned, that was horrific news. If Gl'bgolyb was telling her of the three Vasts being unleashed then it must be true. Gl'bgolyb was the most Ancient and Revered of the Horrorterrors, therefore She could not be wrong. "And you find this to be a positive announcement?" You find your voice at long last, quavering and weak, but found.

"Of coralse! If She said it to be true than it will happen! Shore," she shrugged softly, her grin faltering for a nanosecond as her face-fins drooped, "It may be rather shellfish of me to want to be human but, what troll doesn't think abalone it sometimes?!"

_Normal trolls don't think about being human..._ Your caustic nature pokes at you through your thoughts, surprising you. _Then again,_ you append,_normal trolls don't shine with the Light either. Neither do normal humans..._ Wistfully you stare at Feferi as she spins around and laughs. She is so sure of her fate, and so ready to accept it and you, you are shunning yours. You run away like a scared infant and hide behind ignorance and sleepless nights, pretending that Its words were nothing but a bad dream, a nightmare hidden deep within a Dream Bubble. You live a lie.

"Well, congratulations Feferi, and I wish you the best of luck in your new human life. Hopefully I will get used to being a troll as easily as you do to being a human. It will be an enlightening experience indeed." Clipped and overly proper, a dead giveaway if anyone knew you personally, but your troll roommate and her "furriend" don't know you well.

Thank the sweet, merciful Zazzerpan...

Feferi skips away, humming a ditty to herself as she did so, and Nepeta waves. "Bye Fefuri! See mew later!" Turning back to you, she frowns, "You didn't seem to like Fefuri much; why was that?"

_Astute enough to notice that at least,_ you muse thoughtfully. "Just, something seemed off about her. Nothing to worry your head about. Besides," you gesture grandly at the door five feet in front of you, "We're almost there."

From dorm 304 comes loud and bass-filled, wubbing Skrillix, and the sound of swearing and breaking bottles. A some of the yelling drifts through the door, "Cod-dammit! Stop breakin' my bottles! You couldn't afford this Cognac if you sold your shellf as a ho so gimme' my damn bottle back! No! Fuck! Don't drink that shit either!"

You wearily rub your temples; why, of all people, did they place your booze-loving, alcoholic, loving-drunk sister with Meenah Peixes? She absolutely fucking _loved_ collecting "dat loot" and hoarding it, and your sister loved breaking things when she was completely smashed. Especially bottles of fine, expensive alcohol, post-drunken consumption.

"Meenah?!" Nepeta looks at you with surpurrise—DAMMIT—surprise as she gestures at the door, "Mew're sister rooms with Meenah?! She _hates_cats!"

"She'll be fine," you assure her—though exactly how you plan to do that is still formulating even now, she can be a bit of a "bee-yotch" sometimes. "I have a plan."

Four-eyes looks at you and meows, face morphing into the pale, humanoid visage of Calmasis. "_**LOOk FFFFfffFForr413 tHEONESWH29$':"2818303!,shinewithT he LIGHttttttt![^{+]**_"

Shaking your head to clear Calmasis' grip on you, you knock lightly on the door and then open it, peeking around the corner. Good thing you did too, because you narrowly avoid getting bludgeoned upside the head with an empty Pinot Noir bottle. You poke your head in again and, ducking to dodge a thrown doubloon, call out to the two of them. "_May I have a moment?!_"

"Rosie-posie!" Your sloshed sister slurs, "You're her. Hrer. Here." Hiccupping and then tilting her head to the left, she frowns, "Wh're you here?"

"I have a present for my favourite sibling! Would you like to receive it?!" The promise of a present taunts her, and she steps forward, arms outstretched.

"Gimme. Gimme m'prsnt." Like a foolish child to proffered candy in the hands of a stranger, she came.

You waggle your finger at her in disappointment, Bangarang playing in the background to the beat your finger is ticking to. "I told you no getting drunk, Roxanne."

"M'drunk not...not drunk...," she hiccups again, swaying slightly, and winks at you, "Jus' 'little typsi. Tiepsy. Tupsy. Fuck it."

"How much of your alcohol did she drink?" Your attention is now given to a very pissed Meenah.

"Four fuckin' bottles of Cognac, three red wines, and fourteen of my best whiskeys! Bitch better be payin' for all my lost loot!" Meenah cocks her hips, hands akimbo, and a perfectly reasonable sneer on her face that made her lip-piercings shimmer in the light.

You gawk, Roxanne had a high tolerance for alcohol, but that amount would kill an indigoblood! "All that?!"

Meenah harrumphs and looks back at you inebriated sister with a vicious scowl, "Nah, they were only _half_-full at most, so I'm pretty shore that she's only reely glubbing drunk."

Sighing in relief, you go forward and grab the most recent acquisition from her slippery hands. She squeals for a little bit, arms flapping like wind socks, but quiets when she sees four-eyes. "Kitty! Bawww! Gimme!"

Meenah practically hisses like a deflating pufferfish, "No. Shell-to-the-_fuckin'_-naw! There ain't no glubbin' way you're bringing no damn catfish into _my_ dorm! Swimmin' in the sand-dollars or not, ain't no dumb, drunk-ass bitch's sister gonna' bribe me into letting this waste of sea live with us!"

You lean in, close enough to smell her perfume—a salty-sweet combination that reminds you of saltwater taffy—yet respectfully far enough not to be in contact with her face-fins, and smile. You're pretty _shore_ the breath from your mouth changing shape tickles her gills, making them flap slightly. "I'll make her promise that she won't ever touch your possessions again."

She brightens, visibly, and chuckles. "Shore. Go for it. YOLO and all that shit."

Facing your sister, you pull four-eyes from the crook of your arms and offer him to Roxanne. She squeals and clutches him to her chest. "Thank you, thank you, thnak yuo!"

"You may keep him on _two conditions_," you sternly tell her. "One: you can_not_ touch any of Meenah's possessions, alcoholic in nature or otherwise. Two: you _must_ cut back on the drinking, no matter how bad the voices get." She stares wistfully at four-eyes and sighs, "And I mean it this time: if you don't comply, I'll call the RA on the cat and then tell Mother about your behaviour."

"I will! Sheesh...," Roxanne hugs four-eyes and frowns at you. "I promezz. Promizzd. Preemiz. Promise."

You kiss her head gently and smile, "I love you Roxanne."

"Luv you too Rosie-posie." She tackle-hugs you, smashing poor four-eyes between the two of you and making him squeak in surprise. Then she pulls away and holds four-eyes arms-length from her and grins. "Yurer name is Mutie! Your."

You laugh at that and turn to face Meenah, "Expect the RA to be placated by this morning. I'll keep to my promise...and my threats." Then the two of you—Nepeta and yourself—bid them farewell and walk down the hallway. Turning to Nepeta and the remaining mutated cat, you speak up on the last person to get a cat. "Her name is Jane Crocker. She's John's second cousin."

Nepeta lights up, "John?! Then she'll _have_ to be good! John in amazing!"

You smile one last time before the sun rises, "Yes. Yes he is."

Your name is ROSE LALONDE and you are UNUSUALLY HAPPY as you DELIVER CATS to some of your UNSUSPECTING FRIENDS at FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING on the FIRST DAY of WINTER BREAK.


End file.
